The Crucible
by deaconrayne1
Summary: "Justice without Mercy is Tyranny" - E'Jei Osborne Anders is brought before the spirits of the Fade to answer for the crimes perpetuated by himself and Vengeance. That which was, that which is, what which shall be is laid bare and the stakes for Anders and Vengeance are eternal. And final.


The Crucible

Dedication: This story is dedicated to the tragic souls; the wounded and the mad, and those that love them. May they ultimately find their place and their peace.

"_He that can smile at death, as we know him. Who can flourish in the midst of diseases that kill off whole peoples. Oh! If such an one was to come from God, and not the Devil, what a force for good might he not be in this old world of ours." _–Dracula

Chapter 1

Opening Arguments

9:40 Dragon

The pain begins. It slides up his back and just before it reaches his eyes, it digs its claws in.

Eyes open now, flickering and faded in the darkness. Stone and shadows and spiders are all he sees. All he ever sees. Except today.

Today, there is someone in his cell with him: a plain looking person dressed in plain looking clothes and wearing a plain looking face.

"Good morning."

A dry tongue licks ragged lips, "Who…are—?"

"Here," The enigmatic figure gently cups his face and pours cooling water down the other man's parched throat. He licks it up greedily. As soon as it is drained, it fills itself back up. Too thirsty to care, he drains it again and again until he is sated.

"Thank you," he coughs.

"You're welcome," the figure with the cup says.

"Not that I am ungrateful, but who are you?"

"I am Judgment. I am here today because it is time for your tribunal, Anders."

The man's expression freezes, "What?" he manages to croak.

"Yes, your judgment has long been denied to you. I apologize for that. But I am here now and you will be judged."

Anders' eyes begin to glow, **"Get thee hence, demon! Anders has no need of you!"**

Judgment waves a hand and the other voice is silenced, "You are Vengeance, once Justice. You shall be judged as well."

"How…how did you do that?" Ander asks, shock energizing his words.

"It is within my power," Judgment looks around, "I approve of your choice in hiding places, by the way: I doubt anyone would look for the most wanted man in Thedas in a dungeon in Val Royeaux."

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"The story of your life, it seems."

Anders cannot suppress a laugh, "You got me there."

"But a man like you is only in a place like this by choice."

"I snuck in," Anders explains, "Hid myself among the other prisoners. There are so many," he gestures out towards the door, "There's a poor kid in there starving to death; I hear him crying at night. The Templars just abandoned him to die."

"And what would you do if you could reach him?"

Anders frowns, "I would help him, of course."

"How?"

"I…don't know, but I would try."

"Why?"

"Because no one should die alone and afraid."

Judgment considers that for a moment then nods.

"Very well. It is time to go."

Anders struggles to his feet.

"_Mrowr?"_

He freezes, "It cannot be."

Judgment favors the man with a smile and produces a cat.

"Ser Pounce-a-lot!" Anders calls out joyfully.

"Here," Judgment hands the cat to Anders, who holds him tightly kissing his head repeatedly, "I thought you would appreciate a little moral support during the Tribunal."

Anders wipes tears from his eyes, "Thank you so much," he turns his attention to his cat, "Who missed his daddy? You did! Oh, yes you did! Oh, yes you did!"

"_Mrowr!"_ Ser Pounce-a-lot appears to be indignant, but his loud purring betrays his joy.

"Now then…" Judgment reaches out and touches Anders on the forehead and suddenly Anders is not in his cell but in a vast landscape that shimmers and glows bordered by iridescent mist.

"The Fade," He whispers in awe, still clutching his cat.

"…shall we begin?"

There are more figures now. It is impossible for Anders to tell how many as their forms seem to shift and blend into each other.

"What are you?" He asks dumbfounded.

"Demons to some, saviors to others…we heard your call and we came," The voices reply.

"My call?"

"Your guilt. Your shame. Your desire for either damnation or redemption…"

"…for judgment," Judgment is now standing before Anders.

"Will the supplicants be judged together or separately?" the voices ask.

"Separately, I think," Judgment replies.

And then Justice is standing next to Anders, no longer white but dressed in red armor, battered and dented, and smeared in blood that drips continuously.

"**What foul sorcery is this?"** Justice demands.

Anders nearly staggers as a tremendous pressure is lifted from his body, "I'm free," he whispers.

"That remains to be determined," Judgment replies calmly.

"**You will never be free of me, Anders. I am Justice. I am eternal!"**

"That also remains to be determined."

"**By what right do you dare presume to judge Justice?"**

"By the same right that permitted you to administer death and judgment to those whom you felt were guilty."

"Permission to treat the supplicant as hostile?" the voices call out.

"Permission granted."

Chains erupt from all corners of the Fade. They bind Justice and force him to his knees, arms stretched out and helpless.

"The facts of the tribunal must be established," the voices decree, "We have reason to believe the supplicant may already be dead, slain by the one known as 'Hawke'."

"It didn't take," Anders mutters.

"Explain."

"Look, that wretched son-of-a-bitch Rolan drove a sword clean through me. I'm pretty sure I can handle a dagger in the back."

There is a thoughtful pause, "The argument is valid," the voices decree, "The tribunal may continue."

Judgment nods, "Who will speak on behalf of the supplicant?"

"We will," Anders peers and gasps as a figure emerges from the glowing mist.

"Irving?"

The old man smiles, "Hello Anders. I am Wisdom. It is my role to ensure that this tribunal proceeds with a clear understanding of what happened and that all mitigating factors are taken into account. And that it is never forgotten that all those involved are not simply a collection of facts and dates, but people and deserving of respect.

"Thank you," is all Ander can stammer out.

Irving smiles and nods, coming over to stand with Anders.

"We will."

A man clad in silver armor. Anders frowns at him, "Alistair?"

"Oh, hello there, what am I doing here?" Alistair looks about, "Oh, that's right, ahem," he clears his throat, "We, no wait, I mean _I_ am Purpose, it's my job to make sure that the intentions and, well, the purpose I guess, of your actions is taken into account. 'Good intentions and all that'," Alistair stands behind Anders and slaps him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

"We will."

A dwarf steps forth and belches loudly.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Anders laments.

"Hello, you slack-jawed coward," he gestures to himself with a dirty thumb, "I'm whatchacallit, Freedom. I'm gonna make sure that these namby-pambies don't forget that a man's got the right to choose what he does and that's a pretty big sodding deal!"

"Got it, thanks Oghren."

"No problem…Sparklefingers," He laughs uproariously and proceeds to stand behind Anders where he attempts to discreetly blow his nose on the other man's robes.

Judgment nods, "Very well. Who shall speak on behalf of the wronged?"

"We shall."

A lean figure strides out garbed in spiked armor and glowing markings.

"Fenris," Anders scowls.

"Silence, abomination. I am Scorn, the rejection of all that you are, the denial of your ideals, the contempt of that in which you believe," he leveled an armor-clad finger at Anders, "And as the magisters of Tevinter were cast down by the Maker, so shall you be! I _will _hold your heart in my hands!"

"Terrific, how are you not a demon?"

"A demon is a perversion of purpose, this _is _my purpose. Not that I expect a hypocrite and a murderer to understand the difference," He takes his place opposite Anders.

"We will," Said a depressingly familiar brogue as another figure emerges.

"Sebastian."

"Speak not to me, foul thing. I am Retribution, the righteous fury, the punishment long eluded until it is meted out without hesitation or restraint, the condemnation of the foul, the flawed, and the fallen," he gets right in Anders' face, "You slew Elthina, you miserable wretch. You are a monster and by the Maker, I shall see you burn like one," he stands behind Fenris.

"We do."

A lean, slender figure wearily makes its way out of the mists, a three-headed staff leading the way.

"Orsino," Anders hisses contemptuously.

"Yes. But more than that, I am Sorrow, the pain that never fades, the wound that never heals. Regret and bitterness are my bones, despair and desolation my blood," He looks at Anders sadly, "You have brought much sorrow to your fellow mages, Anders."

"You are _not _my fellow mage," Anders retorts, "You are a coward and a weakling who abandoned his responsibilities to fear and madness."

Orsino shrugs, "That is true," he replies simply and takes his place by Fenris and Sebastian.

Judgment nodded its approval.

"Very well. Who shall ensure the sanctity of the Tribunal?"

"We shall," a clear, commanding voice calls out.

Anders is taken aback, "Aveline?"

The red-headed woman nods, "I bid you greeting, supplicant; I am Order, the pillars upon which societies are built upon, the bulwark against chaos, the vanguard against the wilderness and the madness," Aveline regarded him for a moment, "You have brought a great deal of disorder to the world, supplicant, but you are still deserving of fair and impartial proceedings as dictated by the law. I will ensure that it is so."

"Thank you," Anders says frowning, "I think."

Aveline nods again and stands aside, between Anders' group and Fenris'.

"We do."

Another short figure began to swagger out of the mists, a large crossbow bouncing on his back.

"Varric?"

"Heya Blondie," the dwarf grins at him, "I'm Truth, oddly enough. It's my job to make sure that the facts of this story get set down straight, which considering that I'm a compulsive liar and prone to wild exaggerations is kinda ironic. Still, it should make for a good story when I get back to the Hanged Man," he gives Anders a thumbs-up and takes his place next to Aveline, "Hiya Red."

"Don't call me that! I told you; too common."

"Yuh-huh."

"We do," Calls out a sultry voice and a curvaceous silhouette struts out.

Anders groans aloud, "Maker help me!"

"Hello Handsome," She blows him a kiss, "I'm Chance, 'cause let's face it, there's more to life than what ol' Lady Manhands has to say," She grins gesturing to Aveline

"Shut up, whore," Aveline growls.

"Just like old times," The Rivaini shakes her head, "Still, every now and then, things tend to go sideways, _believe_ me, I know and well that needs to be taken into account."

"Great, thanks Isabela," Anders grumbles.

She winks at him and waves at Fenris, who does his best to ignore her before taking her place next to Aveline.

"Carrot head."

"Scurvy Tramp."

"Frigid bear-sow"

"Poxy tart."

"I missed you too."

"Likewise."

Judgment nods, "Very well, the Council of Magistrates has been assembled-."

"What?!" Fenris calls out angrily.

"He said 'Magis-TRATES, Broody!" Varric yells back.

"…oh."

"As I was saying," Judgment continues, "The Council of Magistrates has been assembled. The Tribunal may now begin."

Anders frowns, "Hold on, so, these spirits are what the ones who decide whether or not I'm guilty?"

Judgment shakes its head, "No their role is merely present what is known; things that were, things that are, and things that have yet to be. When it is over _you _will decide the fate of both yourself and Vengeance?"

"Me? How in the name of Andraste is that supposed to work?"

"You will witness all that you have wrought, both good and ill and in the end you will determine if you are innocent or if you are guilty of the actions as well as their consequence which will be presented."

Anders frowns, "What happens if I say I'm guilty?"

"Then you will end."

Anders swallows, "Terrific and if I say I am innocent?"

Fenris scoffs loudly as Judgment continues speaking, "Then you will be free to go."

Anders smiles broadly, "Well then this should be easy."

Judgment smiles enigmatically but says nothing.


End file.
